


Luring the Beast

by GoldenJezebel



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: (but not toward each other), (for just the first half of the smut), Blood Kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will Graham, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Floor Sex, Frottage, Kitchen Sex, Masturbation, May/December Relationship, Naked Female Clothed Male, Older Man/Younger Woman, Panty Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Seduction, Seduction to the Dark Side, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-21 19:12:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18146270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenJezebel/pseuds/GoldenJezebel
Summary: When Abigail realizes that Will is the Copycat killer, she is willing to go to any lengths to expose him... Even if that means getting into his bed. Dark!Will AU.





	1. Setting the Trap

The air between them was thick and heady. Abigail knew what Will was – she’d seen and experienced enough to be aware of the telltale absence of emotion – dead, soulless eyes, and the way killers would smile without it reflecting in the irises. Will Graham was smiling back at her in that same blank, soulless way. He was like a puppet – an ill-fitting mask. She yearned to peel back the layers and see the dark, unfiltered ugliness that she’d known all her life. Darkness had become a comfort. Thanks to her father, she knew it and _experienced_ it firsthand, and without that same poison coursing through her very veins, she felt uncomfortably lost.

“I didn’t feel ugly when I killed Nick Boyle,” she found herself saying. “I felt good… To get to end it all, to stop it.”

All at once, that blank stare filled with a low, smoldering fire, and Abigail triumphed at the soft smile Will gave her.

She had him now. _Hook, line and sinker._ Death _excited_ Will – it turned his otherwise soulless eyes into pure, sparking flames, and she felt both terrified and exhilarated as she gazed upon him.

 _I’ve got you, you bastard, I’ve got you, I’ve got you._ Cassie Boyle was a nameless victim in her eyes, but Marissa Schurr had been her best friend. She felt it her _duty_ to lure Will into a confession.

“Did you feel the same rush after killing my dad?”

Will lifted a hand, then grasped onto her wrist in a way that made Abigail jerk at the startling, bone-crushing grip.

“I felt terrified,” he whispered, seemingly hungering for her _own_ terror. When he found the round, horrified look bleeding through her eyes and spiking the primordial, bestial undercurrent in his bloodstream, he relaxed his grip and stroked along the red, angry marks on her skin. “…And then I felt _powerful.”_

With her heart in her throat, she shivered as his thumb skimmed almost _sensually_ over the pulse on her wrist, his eyes never leaving hers as she swallowed back bile.

“It felt good,” she choked, fear bubbling sickeningly sweet in her breast. Will had her in his sights like a hungry fox, and it shamed her that her body’s first response was to throb and tingle like a live wire. Survival had always been her top priority, but now it seemed that she was hurtling herself straight over the edge.

“You’re trembling,” Will whispered. His free hand lifted to cup her own, and then his fingertips lightly stroked along her palm, the corner of his mouth twitching at the frantic rush of her pulse. It throbbed and fluttered beneath his touch, and briefly, his eyes lowered toward her chapped lips. “I think we can help each other, Abigail.”

She swallowed, tensing her thighs as a ripple of heat pulsed wetly through her slit. _He’s dangerous. He knows, he knows, he knows._

“How?”

“Come with me to Minnesota. Together, we can coax the Copycat out of hiding.”

Dazed, Abigail nodded, yet she knew the fear was still rippling in her eyes like a restless, perpetually moving pond.

_He’s going to kill me. He knows, he knows, he knows._

With a smile that could only be described as feral _,_ Will nodded and indicated the door. “Come on. Let’s get your things.”

Feeling his arm wrap almost _possessively_ around her waist, Abigail found herself traitorously leaning into his flank, if only to support her shaking legs. This was her last chance – if she truly wanted to win this, she needed to be the lure one last time.


	2. Home Again

Sitting shoulder to shoulder on their flight, Abigail fidgeted as she and Will continued gazing straight ahead. Prior to takeoff, she had reached out to an FBI agent named Anders – one who Jack had made her speak to a couple times – and had informed him that the Copycat would be at her house that evening. She wanted to make sure he came. Naturally, he had agreed.

“Flight jitters?”

Gawping up at Will, Abigail assembled her face into a false smile and shrugged. “The first and last time I was on a plane, it was after my parents died, so I just…I don’t really have the best memories when it comes to flying.”

Will looked her over, absently tonguing the corner of his mouth. “We all have fears, Abigail. Sometimes, you just have to throw yourself over the edge and take charge.”

His low voice, plus the mental image of him actually _letting_ her take charge, caused her thighs to tense and her hands to grip at the armrests. “I don’t…I-I don’t think I should.”

“Why not?”

“Because…the things I’m afraid of are dangerous.”

For a long while, Will said nothing. His eyes appraised her, dark and introspective, before he reached out and gently brushed his thumb along her cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid around me,” he whispered. “I’m here to guide you…to _help_ you.”

Turning her head slightly, Abigail felt his thumb brush the corner of her mouth and she swallowed. This was ridiculous – Will was a _monster,_ and she needed to stop getting seduced by his bullshit. For all she knew, he was toying with her weaknesses and _encouraging_ her behavior. Perhaps she should play along…

“I do need your help,” she decided. “I’d like…I-I’d like for you to hold my hand. Just until I stop feeling anxious.”

Without missing a beat, Will curled his hand around hers and squeezed, baring to her searching fingers the pulse inside his palm…a built-in lie detector. She was uncertain if his adrenaline would spike like with a traditional guilty party, but she was willing to take the chance.

“Marissa…” She let the name dangle between them like bait on a hook, her hand clasping his palm. “How do you think the Copycat knew to target her?”

“You were most likely being watched,” Will said. His pulse remained a steady, unassuming throb against her fingertips. “He studied your every move – who you spoke to, what you did, and where you lived… _especially_ the latter. He wanted to immerse himself in all your habitats, so that would mean your parents’ home, Port Haven, and any hotels you’ve stayed in.”

Abigail felt her _own_ adrenaline spike. “What do you mean? Could he…was he able to see me at my most vulnerable? Like…alone and-?”

“Performing intimate acts? Yes, more than likely.”

Finally, Abigail felt a jump in Will’s pulse, and it sickened her that she _thrilled_ in the thought of exciting him – of encouraging his animalistic behavior.

“If…i-if he was studying me, that still doesn’t answer the question of _why_ he targeted Marissa.”

“It was to get you alone,” Will said. “To divide and conquer is a primordial tactic, but one that always works.”

Abigail trembled, nervously brushing her thumb over his pulse. “How did…h-how did he kill her?”

“You saw the body.”

“Yes, but…I don’t know _how.”_

Will’s steady pulse suddenly began to race, and tears filled Abigail’s eyes as he further damned himself.

“Strangulation – he squeezed and squeezed and _squeezed_ until the very life drained from her eyes.”

Feeling sick, Abigail flinched when Will gave her hand a responsive squeeze of his own.

“You don’t have to be afraid, you know. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Abigail smiled weakly. “My dad used to say things like that…”

“I’m not your father.”

“No, but you hold a fascination for him, don’t you? Getting inside his head must’ve been an experience.”

“It was,” Will said evenly, his eyes raking over her trembling form. “Sometimes, I worry that I’ll slip into a persona and be unable to find myself – my _true_ self –again.”  

Beginning to nervously shift in her seat, Abigail looked straight ahead and cleared her throat. “Did you ever feel that way with my dad?”

“Yes.”

“Do you… _still_ feel that way?”

“Perhaps.”

With her mouth dry and her heart in her throat, Abigail spared Will a sidelong glance, then promptly looked ahead again. “When you were inside my dad’s head…did your thoughts ever drift to me?”

“Not in the way you might expect.”

“Meaning?”

“I felt protective of you, but not in the way a father would care for his daughter.”

“Then in what way?”

Will’s hand clamped down around her wrist, startling her as she looked up into his dark, smoldering eyes. He stooped to press a kiss to her forehead, and a responding throb swelled sharply between her legs.

_Fuck._

“Try and get some sleep,” he suggested. “We have a long flight ahead of us.”

 _You have no idea,_ Abigail grimly thought, tensing her thighs in fearful frustration.

 

* * *

 

When they arrived at her old house, Abigail felt as if she were gazing upon a looming ghost.

Mistaking her shiver for a chill, Will took hold of her shoulders and re-adjusted her scarf, carefully tucking it in to lay warmly against her neck. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he truly cared…

He stepped away then and tears filled her eyes, making her feel slightly winded. “Will?”

“Hm?”

“Do we really have to go in?” If they turned around right now, perhaps Agent Anders wouldn’t need to be involved. Perhaps everything could still be okay…

Returning over to her side, Will gently slid an arm around her shoulders – how could a man of such violence be so _gentle?_ – and began leading her up the walkway.

“If you can’t move on from this, Abigail, you’ll never heal,” he said. “I want to help you get past this.”

Looking up into his earnest eyes, Abigail nodded and chewed her lip. Even with the threat of proverbial jaws snapping at her throat, she still felt oddly _safe_ in his presence. How could that be? Kindness was a mask easily donned, and she had _seen_ his evil acts firsthand, so why did she not want to accept the truth? Even with Will’s veiled confession, how could she still look at him with such needy, childlike hopefulness?

“Come on,” Will cajoled, snapping her out of it. “If we go inside, perhaps we can recreate the Copycat’s thought patterns. He may have killed Marissa at your father’s hunting cabin, but it’s very likely that he came here to feel closer to your father…to be more in tune with his tendencies.”

Abigail shuddered. “You know where my room is, right?”

He regarded her warily. “The FBI gave me the floor plans, yes.”

_Right. Sure._

“Um…well, since you _do_ know your way around, do you think you could maybe check it out while I get a quick shower? I feel grimy and gross.”

In truth, she needed to get away from him for a little while – to regain her bearings and prepare herself for the inevitable.

To her relief, Will flashed her a crooked smile and nodded. “Go on ahead,” he agreed. “I’ll start with your room.”

“Okay…” Feeling an anxious stab over what he might find – or rather, what he might _do_ – Abigail turned and headed off toward the front bathroom. It was close to her bedroom, but not so close that she needed to worry.

After disrobing and stepping underneath the showerhead, Abigail was disquieted to find that she couldn’t release the tension from her body. She ached and throbbed all over, and while absently scrubbing her skin, she cocked her head to try and listen over the shower. It was…eerily quiet.

Feeling vulnerable, Abigail turned the water off after a few more minutes, then wrapped a towel around herself and cautiously stepped outside. All was silent.

Now edging toward her bedroom, a nervous lump formed in her throat, and Abigail peered through the crack of her (mostly) shut door. There, standing alongside her dresser was Will, peering down at her high school pictures and holding what appeared to be…wait. What _was_ that?

With her heart in her throat, Abigail leaned closer as Will lifted the item – her _dirty panties_ – to his nose and inhaled along the crotch.

_God…_

Feeling dizzy, she found herself unable to pull away as he began to palm himself over the front of his pants. He rolled his hand in a slow, lazy circle, all the while pressing his face into the soiled garment. Though just as he began to unzip his pants, Abigail squeaked and abruptly took off for the guest bedroom.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck!_

Buzzing with adrenaline, Abigail locked the door behind her and promptly collapsed onto the bed, her entire body shaking as she envisioned Will, his thick erection tenting the front of his pants as he inhaled her musky scent.

Teeth sinking into her bottom lip, Abigail groaned and slid a hand between her trembling thighs. She had to stop it…she had to make the pain go away.

Flicking a finger over her swollen bud, Abigail stifled a gasp and began to pick up the pace, her toes curling while she circled her clit with several harsh, impatient movements. She moved her free hand down to thrust two small, scissoring fingers into her cunt, and then she began to curl and twist them around, her back lifting off the bedding as her breath stuttered in her chest.

What would Will do to her, she wondered? Why was he smelling her panties? Did he _want_ to fuck her, or was he just becoming the animal she knew him to be?

She thought then of his wide blue eyes, his strong biceps and how they’d aid in _choking_ her, should he so desire, and how it would feel to have his thick, hard cock driving strongly between her thighs.

The last mental image had her spasming harshly around her fingers, a strangled cry catching in her throat as she sagged down into the bedding.

“Abigail?”

Panting, she weakly rolled up and re-adjusted her towel. “Y-yes?”

From the hallway, she could hear Will coming to a stop outside the door. “Are you alright?”

Abigail swallowed. “Yes…”

“I thought I heard a noise.”

_Shit, he knows..._

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just let me get dressed, and I’ll be right out, okay?”

There came a pause, then Will remained standing wordlessly outside her door for at least a minute. When he finally headed back down the hallway, it took Abigail a moment to realize she’d been holding her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to make this three chapters instead of two, mostly because it was getting long (by my standards, anyway), and because I wanted some build-up (and to give you guys a new update sooner rather than later). But I promise, it WILL only be three chapters.
> 
> I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank both **ThedudeDodson43** and **Dkpetersen26** for reviewing basically all of my fanfiction. I appreciate it more than you could ever know (seriously), and I honestly doubt I would've been as willing to throw myself out there otherwise, so THANK YOU, and this one's for you! :)
> 
>  **P.S. I've written an erotic historical romance!** You can find the link on my Tumblr, musicboxmemories.tumblr.com. It's all over my page, but let me know if you can't find it! :) And yes, it DID start off as an Abigram fanfic (that I'd abandoned), how did you guess?


	3. Blood Bond

After gathering up her clothes from the bathroom, Abigail got dressed and found Will waiting for her in the kitchen.

He smiled, giving her a mock salute with an old coffee cup. It said _World’s Greatest Dad_ on the side, making her shiver. She wondered if he’d chosen that mug on purpose.

“I would’ve made you some, but I didn’t know when you were coming out,” he said. “You must’ve really needed a breather.”

Not taking the bait, Abigail folded her arms and stepped further into the room, her damp hair clinging to her cheeks and neck as she frowned. “How did you know where to find everything?”

“It’s a kitchen, Abigail. It might not be mine, but all homes tend to have the same basic setup.”

Pursing her mouth, she watched him take a drink and regard her with sly, amused eyes over the rim of his mug. With the pending threat of Anders’ arrival, she was becoming increasingly agitated.

“Are you sure you don’t want a cup?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Leaning his weight against the counter, Will set his coffee aside and exhaled. “Abigail, I know someone’s coming.”

Her breath hitched and she gaped back at him, her lips pinching as she affected a look of nonchalance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your phone,” he clarified. “I read your texts.”

With the blood rushing from her face, Abigail unsteadily took a step back, her fingers digging into her forearms tightly enough to bruise. “Why would you do that?” she weakly asked. “Those were private…”

Slowly moving toward her, Will’s eyes remained deceptively kind as he reached out to cup her cheeks. “I needed to know I could trust you,” he whispered. “Evidently, I was wrong to think you were loyal.”

With her breath feeling like fire in her lungs, Abigail swallowed and looked up at him with sharp, narrowing eyes. “I _am_ loyal,” she fiercely said. “To Marissa.”

Will flashed her a lopsided smile. “I suppose it’s a good thing I killed her then, isn’t it? When I want something, I _don’t_ like to share.”

Abigail moved to strike him, but he easily caught her hand, chuckling at the fire that raged across her eyes.

“You should see yourself right now,” he whispered. “It’s beautiful…the simple spark of rage that can plummet us all into ecstasy. You have it, Abigail – that propensity for darkness that can be tipped just _so_ with the proper influence.”

Abigail’s eyes welled up with tears. “I don’t have it…I’m _nothing_ like you.”

“I’ve texted the agent,” Will said, ignoring her protests. “I told him I’m out gathering supplies, so he’s going to knock three times to announce his arrival. When he comes to the door, you’re going to let him in.”

Abigail shook her head. “I’m not going to hurt anyone else, Will – please, I _can’t.”_

Sweetly brushing his thumb along her cheek, Will smiled in that cruel, gentle way that only he could give. “I know you’ll make the right decision, Abigail. You’ve never been one to choose someone’s life over your own, so why start now?”

She flinched. “That’s not fair…”

 _“Life_ isn’t fair, sweetheart. I think you owe it to me – to _yourself_ – to prove just what you can do.”

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

“Speak of the devil.”

Mouth growing dry, Abigail fearfully looked over her shoulder and shook her head. “I can’t…what if-?”

“Nothing will happen, just so long as you follow my lead.”

Childishly, Abigail thought of making him promise, but the look he gave her was far from conciliatory. In an instant, she was transported back to her father’s cabin, the blood on her hands sticky and sickly-sweet as he gave his commands. Back then, she had had to tell herself _it was them or me,_ if only to make the act somewhat palatable. Now was no different.

“Go on,” Will said, his patience wearing thin. “I don’t want to give him a reason to draw his weapon.”

Nodding in defeat, Abigail turned and headed into the foyer, her heart thudding in her ears as she tensed her fists by her sides. Would she ever be able to save herself, she wondered? Maybe deep down, she didn’t _want_ to be saved.

With her hand pausing on the doorknob, she bit her lip and twisted it, now opening the door and gazing upon Agent Anders’ kind face.

“Are you still alone?” he lowly asked.

Nodding, Abigail stepped back to allow him entry. “He probably won’t be back for another twenty minutes.”

“Good. That’ll give us time to plan this out.”

Tasting bile, Abigail turned and began leading him toward the kitchen. “So what were you thinking?”

She crossed the threshold then, and as soon as Anders followed, Will pressed the barrel of his gun against the agent’s temple.

“Yeah,” he purred, “what _were_ you thinking? Inquiring minds want to know.”

Anders’ eyes darkened with recognition, and guiltily, Abigail huddled over by the sink.

“We can all be rational about this,” he said. “Nobody has to get hurt.”

“True,” Will agreed, “but where’s the fun in _that?”_ Triumphant, he knocked his gun against the back of Anders’ head, but miscalculated the man’s tolerance for pain. His scalp split, and if anything, the bloodshed fueled him into action.

Ducking forward, Anders launched himself at Will’s middle and shoved, causing Will to misfire before the two went sprawling to the floor.

Abigail yelped and shielded her face.

Grappling against the tile, Will pushed up on the other man and Anders landed a punch, causing Will to laugh as blood gushed from his split lip.

Anders hit him again and again, and the repetitive motion caused Will’s gun to go skittering across the floor. Abigail gaped at it helplessly.

“Abigail,” Anders called to her. “Give me the gun!”

Laughing, Will fended off the man’s next punch with a giddy rush of adrenaline. “Abigail,” he cajoled, “you know what to do, darlin’.”

Barely moving of her own accord, Abigail plucked the gun off the floor in a daze, her hands shaking as she aimed it toward the scuffling men.

“Hurry up – shoot him!” Anders shouted.

Mouth slack and vision wavering, Abigail swallowed as she tried her damndest to steady the revolver. Anders snarled and reached for something inside his pocket. The minute Abigail saw a flash of silver, she panicked and fired – not once, not twice, but _three times_.

With several short, frenzied inhalations, she backed away and dropped the gun to the floor, her knees giving out as Will started laughing beneath Anders’ fallen body.

“Is he…? I-is he…? With her throat closing around the words, Abigail dizzily swayed once she realized that Anders wasn’t moving. _He wasn’t moving._

Rolling out from underneath the fallen agent, Will looked to his savior with pride, intrigue, and a growing hint of desire. She was shaking and crying, but she was still his dark goddess, glowing brightly amidst the intoxicating stench of blood and decay.

Sobbing piteously, Abigail began reaching for Will amidst her panic, her hands outstretched as she sniveled and crawled feebly across the floor. _Make it all go away – just end it all, make the pain stop._ He could do it, couldn’t he? Undo all the hurt?

“You did so well, sweetheart” Will crooned, suddenly sounding kind and gentle. He took hold of her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead with his injured, blood-encrusted mouth. His arms wrapped around her then, and she _hated_ how she practically melted into his embrace.

_Yesyesyes, please help me, please help me._

Beneath their knees, Anders’ blood was beginning to pool across the floor and seep into their clothing, leaving Abigail oddly cold despite the sickening warmth. When she withdrew from Will’s arms, it took her a moment to realize that the blood on his clothing had transferred onto her _own._

“You look beautiful,” Will whispered. With his eyes raking over her shaking frame, he eagerly pressed his palm between her breasts and smeared the blood-spatter, entranced by the grotesque work of art they had created.

In spite of her horror, Abigail could feel her nipples hardening beneath his touch. Her mouth fell open as her eyes met with his. They were like dark, giddy pools, glistening faintly in the light.

Will’s hand cupped the back of her neck, and then he fiercely yanked Abigail toward him, her hands reaching out to grip his bloody shirt as he angled in to press a soft, barely there kiss against her mouth. _This is yours, too,_ he seemed to say. _Share it with me._

Looking up at him when he withdrew, Abigail felt the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she reached for him yet again. They could’ve died. _It was either him or them._ Tugging him back, she opened her mouth beneath Will’s explorative tongue and allowed him to plunder past her lips, the coppery taste of blood filling her senses as he pressed his mouth more strongly to hers.

Chuckling into the kiss, Will allowed the scene to play out over and over in his mind: Abigail with the gun, the trigger being pulled, and then the light in Anders’ eyes suddenly _gone._ How beautiful she looked with murder in her gaze.

Soft, hitching sobs were still shaking Abigail’s slight frame, but she now gripped desperately at Will’s shoulders, refusing to let him go as the kiss become more firm and bruising. Beneath their knees, she could still feel the lukewarm blood seeping into the fabric of their pants. The adrenaline rush was beginning to make her giddy. They were alive. _They were alive and Anders was dead._ And because Will seemed oddly proud, _she_ felt oddly proud. Her mannerisms had always been rather chameleonic growing up, given how she wanted to please whomever was giving her the attention. And in that moment, it was _Will_ giving her the affirmation that she needed, and as their kiss grew wanton and frantic, she slid her hand beneath his shirt and licked at his bloodied lips.  
  
“You’re mine,” Will growled at her. A responding throb pulsed between her thighs, and as he held her firmly against his front, Abigail’s mouth slipped off his in a gasp, startled when she felt his firm, rock-hard arousal pressing into her belly. Her shadowed eyes lifted and she allowed him to rip her shirt from her trembling frame, a soft noise catching in her throat as Will’s hands began to smear the blood across her chest. His strong, groping hands kneaded at her flesh, and Abigail sighed as she arched up into his possessive touch.

His eyes almost seemed dark and inhuman —  _haunted_  — but she found herself slipping into his lap and rolling her clothed heat along the firm, rigid bump of him over and over, working him into a rhythm as her hair fell into her line of vision.

With his teeth gritting, Will firmly grasped onto her hips and groaned. Abigail was insatiable. With the fire in her eyes now mirroring his own, he grinned a bloody grin and worked her down over his cock, forcing her hips to grind down more strongly into his arousal.

“I know what you want,” he whispered, his voice a deep rumble as he hovered his lips over her gasping mouth. “Why don’t you _beg_ for it, hmm?”

While Will lowered to nip along Abigail’s throat, she murmured and clutched at his shoulders. As he slid a hand beneath the hem of her jeans and panties, Abigail’s thighs parted in surrender. His thumb stroked her clit and she gave a soft, pitiful mewling sound and melted into his touch, her expression dark as she pushed on his chest and shoved him down onto his backside. Will thudded hollowly against the floor, mere feet away from Anders’ cooling corpse. He laughed darkly.

Leaning over him, Abigail felt nauseated by how aroused she was — by how open and _free_  she felt with a stranger’s blood on her lips, Will’s hands on her waist, and his thick, clothed cock grinding between her thighs.

“Will?” His name came out more like a question than an exhale, and with her hands slipping around his throat, she  _squeezed_  in an attempt at getting him to look at her. His stare electrified the moment and Abigail paused her rocking movements, now wriggling out of her jeans and panties so that she could writhe more freely against his bulge. She didn’t know what the hell was wrong with her…a part of her  _knew_  this was sick, and yet she fell willingly into his arms and claimed his mouth in a bruising kiss, sucking at his tongue as her hips began to furiously pump and roll into his throbbing arousal.

Will broke the kiss and looked up at her with dusky eyes. He gripped harshly at her waist, his cock throbbing and twitching with need. Abigail could see the blood pooling around his head like a dark, twisted halo, and her mouth hovered over his as she whined and dragged her throbbing slit across his jeans. The textured stimulation made her claw at his shoulders and she gasped, soaking the material with her slickness as she slid across his erection again and again and again. Will’s hands were back on her hips helping her – _guiding_ her as she ground into him with firm, deliberate motions.

When Abigail rose to adjust, Will took advantage of the movement and slid a hand between her legs, flicking her clit with his bloodied thumb as she arched and shook, her breasts heaving while he squeezed and stroked the sensitive bud. Beneath her rolling hips, she could feel him struggling to remove his jeans.

“Spread yourself for me,” he growled.

She paused her movements and aided in his disrobement, his whispered plea sending a shiver down her spine as they locked eyes. With his arousal bared and straining, she momentarily thought of taking him in her mouth – of pleasuring him as he writhed and tugged desperately on her hair – but something told her that Will didn’t want foreplay. There was a raw, needy quality in him in that moment, and she felt it, too. She wanted this just as much as he did.

Yanking Will up by the hair, Abigail roughly joined their mouths and bit down on his bottom lip, licking at the droplet of blood before settling against the stiff bar of his erection. Obedient to his earlier plea, she reached between them and spread her cunt, groaning into the kiss as she felt his tip press into where she ached for him.

Beginning to move, she soaked him with her silken folds and gasped, each rocking motion aiding in her tease as she prepped him for her descent. Swiveling her hips, Abigail lowered herself onto his cock and snugly took him in, a soft cry catching in her throat as she began to buck and grind in his lap. With each rise and fall against Will’s body, she curled her toes and arched. This was it… _this was what she needed._

“You’re soaking wet,” Will whispered. Licking at her thrumming pulse, he smeared her fluids around her clit as he worked the stiff, sensitive little bud.

Mouth agape, Abigail shuddered and could sense Anders in her peripheral. Eyes dark, she reached between them and wrapped her hand around the base of Will’s cock, her hand slowly pumping him from below as she rode and swiveled around the straining head of his arousal.  

“Fuck,” Will swore, his jaw clenching.  
  
Their bodies molded together so naturally,  _the mad coddling the mad._

Will was gripping at her tightly enough to leave bruises. With her nails scrabbling against the tile floor, Abigail jerked her weight forward and sighed into his neck, bouncing her hips to force more of his cock into her wet, tight heat. Kissing a burning path from his throat to his collar bone, she gave a frustrated huff when his shirt got in the way. Looping her fingers beneath the hem of the bloody garment, she irritably jerked it over his head and bared his heaving torso to her eager lips and tongue. Latching her mouth onto his skin, she sucked and bit down as her lips journeyed to wherever he would allow, her hand palming him between the legs as she continued to buck and twist in his lap.

Will’s arms came around her strongly and he bit down on her collarbone, causing Abigail to yelp and tug on his hair as she rode him. Urging his mouth away from her skin, their eyes met for a fleeting moment before she crashed her lips into his, moaning softly into the kiss as she forced his hands to cup and tweak her blood-stained breasts. Mewling piteously, she throbbed around him as she once more gazed over her shoulder. Anders remained still, cold, and _dead,_ and her eyes fluttered closed as she jerked onto Will’s cock more strongly. “Don’t let go,” she pleaded. She was afraid of waking up – of discovering that she really _was_ this monstrous, and that the deep, thrilling pleasure swelling inside her was all a part of her true psychosis. 

Will buried his face into her shoulder with a low snarl. He was close—he could _feel_ it, and as Abigail clawed at his shoulders, he jolted her small frame against his cock for better stimulation.   
  
“Abigail, I need you to come.” 

Will’s hands dug into her hips, and Abigail arched into his frenzied thrusts, her lips parting in aroused anguish. With a gruff squeeze, he rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger and his teeth sank into her left breast, causing her to yelp and yank on his hair. Will rubbed more vigorously at her clit as he bit down, causing the pleasure to mix headily with the pain. His tongue lathed her skin and her mind went blank, white-hot static buzzing throughout her nerve-endings as her arousal pitched and wavered. She was dancing dangerously close to the edge – she was so close that she could taste it.

With her forehead dropping against Will’s shoulder, Abigail groaned into his skin and welcomed his hand between her legs, her thighs squeezing his hips as he teased her sensitive button. Their bodies rose and fell against one another with the need for satisfaction, and when Abigail gave a particularly ecstatic cry, she heard him echo the sound with a low groan. All at once, she began to spasm around Will’s length and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, whimpering into his ear as she feverishly jerked and rolled her hips in time to her orgasm. With him stretched deep inside her, she gave several soft, enthusiastic murmurs as she convulsed against his torso.

This was it – the _proof_ that she was a monster. A man’s life had just been ended, and all Abigail had been able to think about was her own hedonistic, selfish pleasures. And more frightening still, she found that she still wasn’t fully satisfied. There was a dark, throbbing craving spreading throughout her bosom, and as she cupped the back of Will’s head, she tilted him back so that she could steal his breath in a harsh, drugging kiss that had her clutching for stability.

Abigail knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Her life had simultaneously ended and begun in that very kitchen, and had always been the mark of many firsts – the loss of her very first baby tooth, her mother’s offer to work at her dream job, her first college acceptance letter – and now _this._ Her very own rebirth.

Shaking and glowing post-coital, Abigail held Will’s face in between her hands and sagged against him in defeat. _You won, you monster, you won, you won._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished! I was lowkey inspired to make a **_dark Abigram AU fan vid_** thanks to this theme, if you're interested! It can be found here: _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ln4jlRfD4d8_
> 
> And honestly, I'm considering making a long/serious fic featuring the above vid idea, but on my other account, 'cause I'm surprisingly into dark!Will lately. I hope you all enjoyed this! And a special thank you to everyone who's commented! :) It truly means the world to me!

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly inspired by A) really missing these characters, and B) my meta that circles around the fact they're both manipulating each other equally. I love how Abigail gets the audience to underestimate her in the 1x12 garden scene, because I remember how in s1, everyone thought Will was the one manipulating her, when in reality, I think they're both being manipulative. By that point, Abby believed Will was the Copycat, so she tested his reactions by speaking about Boyle and how it felt. That's why she appeared unnerved when he said he felt powerful, as well as appearing scared when he asked for her help. She didn't enjoy what happened to Boyle. She said it to lure Will into a confession of his own, hence her having nightmares. People without a conscience don't have nightmares about what they've done. So yeah. I wanted to play with that idea here, except in this AU, Will actually did kill all those people. I just thought it'd be more fun to depict than having Will play into his canon reactions.
> 
> I fortunately think this won't take me long to finish, but incentives always help move things along! :) Thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. I'd like to finish my Will/Abigail/Marissa fic someday too, but that one's been difficult for me for whatever reasons, so I can't make any guarantees.


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